


a week together.

by thefateofivalice



Series: climbing the crystal tower [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aftercare, Blowjobs, Cowgirl Position, Dildos, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Helplessly in Love, Lovebites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Press, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Soulmates, Talk of Pregnancy, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28209138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefateofivalice/pseuds/thefateofivalice
Summary: a very shameless, shameless heatfic.please read the notes in the beginning of the fic. I discuss gender and how heats affect each sex -- this fic is essentially me, the author, trying to put into words how a miqo'te heat works. I try to do this while being as mindful and gender-neutral as possible.[ “Gonna cum,” she cried as he pushed his forehead against hers. "Please!” she breathed, begging him to move. “Please, please.”“Zaela,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Open your eyes.”She did. An oceanic blue staring up at the fiery inferno of Allag, gentle and pleading.“Please,” she whispered again, as if it were the only word she knew.“Watch,” he said, drawing his thumb against her cheek. “Watch me make love to you."]
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: climbing the crystal tower [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604296
Comments: 20
Kudos: 95





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> first and foremost, I want to thank everyone who has encouraged me to continue writing this. through excitement and kindness, I was able to get this to where I liked it. mila, nautilus, you two cheered me on through the entire process. it wouldn't be here without the two of you.
> 
> secondly. heatfics have never come easy to me. especially f/m. I am a bisexual woman who leans heavily towards women, and men in general are not easy for me to write. (little did I know, I would hyperfixate on a man for over a year.) 
> 
> I had a few goals while writing this -- one, to write a heatfic in a way that makes sense to me, hence all of the scientific jargon (this makes it sound complicated, but I promise I did very little research on this because I don't want Cat Heats to be a piece of knowledge stuck in my brain, so it's relatively simple stuff) in the beginning. as a warning, I will say that I use the words "male" and "female", two words that I would prefer to avoid entirely if I could help it. gender does not matter to me. your gender identity, and relationship with gender, however, means everything to me, as a person and a writer. if I have in any way shape or form hurt someone with my use of these words, or by my insinuations within this fic, know that it was NEVER my intention to do so. like I said, I just wanted to write something that made sense to me from a biological standpoint. biology is a topic that takes our identities away from us, and I knew this going in. still, I pushed on, and I think I am satisfied with the result. 
> 
> the reason I bring all of this up is because I do differentiate the meaning between a "rut", which is for g'raha, and a "heat", which is for a'zaela. however, I begin to use these words interchangeably down the line, because they're essentially the same exact thing. this is where the problem of gender came in to begin with. I wanted the scene to be informative, to be seen through the lens of how an eorzean scholar might explain what a heat is -- but as I consider G'raha himself to be gender fluid, I don't believe that he goes out of his way to differentiate between heats or ruts beyond what he described within the fic. heats are what they are: a biological function. he was explaining it in a way that makes sense to A'zaela. 
> 
> I'd like to mention that I believe same sex couples, or gender neutral couples, can also experience heats. I also headcanon that asexual couples, similar to a'zaela (who is pansexual), suppress their heats, or simply don't experience them at all. trans couples experience heats, should they choose to. essentially, if you're one of the races I mention within the fic, you experience a heat. I do not get the chance to explore all of that here, because I wrote about a f/m couple, but know that I would love to in the future, if the opportunity presents itself. I am Oprah, and everyone gets a heat. 
> 
> my second goal was that I wanted to write a wholesome, consensual heatfic between two miqo'te that had planned it out beforehand, and were eager to try it. writing a sex-positive scene is always my goal, and I believe I've achieved this here. I will never write non-con. everything I write between A'zaela and G'raha is always going to be 100% talked about and implied, even if not explicitly stated during a scene. 
> 
> thirdly, I wanted to write a heatfic without using the word "heat." obviously because I wanted to explore how heats come about, this is not present in the first few chapters, but during the sex itself, I avoided the word entirely. almost like neither of them really realized the heat was starting -- just that they woke up and needed to touch one another. I believe it creates a tenderness between them, and shows an important part of who they are when they're together. 
> 
> this will be a multi-chaptered fic. please feel free to message me if I did somehow stumble with my words here. it's so important to me that I don't exclude or hurt anyone. 
> 
> the sex starts at chapter 2. I had to lay the ground first in chapter one. also, if you've read my previous heatfic, no you haven't. I won't delete it but I want to, LOL. that one is not canon and I no longer respect her. 
> 
> if you read all of that, thank you.

It was a perfectly quiet and normal day. A rare thing to settle upon the pair’s shoulders, considering the busy lives they led. A’zaela had finished her daily workout and had sprawled herself over the expanse of her bed, cooling down from the exercise. Raha, on the other hand, had taken to scouring the bookcases that lined their room. That told her that he was reading for pleasure instead of business—all of their scholarly books were kept in a separate room of their shared apartment. 

There weren’t any pleasantries exchanged between the couple, as they had been thoroughly exchanged when they had woken up that morning. Now, as the sun reached its peak, there wasn't much to say, as nothing had happened since they saw one another last.

A blessing. Truly, this was a blessing. As lovely as another adventure would be, there simply wasn’t one to go on. 

It was soft. Domestic. A’zaela could handle that. Wouldn’t mind handling that, if it were with G’raha. 

She was about to ruin it, wasn’t she? 

“I...believe I have a question,” she started, watching as his head poked up from where it had been buried in his book. While she’d contemplated asking him, he had moved over to the desk to read under a light. 

G’raha quirked an ear up in her direction. He set his book down and tossed A’zaela a curious look. “What is it?” 

“It’s a...rather embarrassing question,” A’zaela affirmed, her brows furrowed. “It’s about...heats. Miqo’te heats. I admit to knowing very little about them. I’ve only ever heard bad things. I...want to know more. From an unbiased source. … You.” 

G’raha slowly closed his book. Luckily for her, he didn’t seem to want to tease or make fun of her. Not that she believed he would—G’raha was a well of knowledge, and he was always willing to give, should someone ask. It was why she asked him. 

Him being her lover, and perhaps the most obvious choice in the matter, was purely coincidence, of course. 

“Well, a heat is...something that miqo’te experience because of our biology. One sex greatly outnumbers the other, putting us as a reproductive disadvantage,” he explained calmly. No hint of a blush on his face. 

(Not like the way it was on hers.) 

G’raha continued, “I’m fairly certain that’s where the idea of a Nunh came from in the first place. It wasn’t that one male wanted every female, it was that there was only one male to pass around.” 

Realization flickered over A’zaela’s face. That...actually made a bit of sense. Growing up, she had often attributed the names _Nunh_ and _Tia_ to old, sexist practices—and she still  _ would,  _ because that’s what it had turned itself into over time. However, it was still interesting to know where the tradition came from. Things have changed, and miqo’te weren't entirely uncommon to see, but she knew they used to be. A male miqo'te would turn heads--not because of how attractive one might be, but because there were simply very little of them.

G’raha continued, oblivious to her inner thoughts. “I also believe that without a heat, there’s a much lower chance of pregnancy to occur. I’d have to do more explicit research if you want numbers and statistics, but without the monthly or bi-monthly cycle of a miqo’te’s heat, they rarely get pregnant. There have been known pregnancies outside of heat cycles, but they are far less common.” 

“So it’s...females that go into heat specifically?” A’zaela asked. 

“Biologically, yes. If the miqo’te in question is able to birth a child, they are the ones going into heat. Although it isn’t uncommon for a member of the opposite sex to fall into a 'rut' to match their partner’s need. Essentially, there is a heat factor no matter what, if a Miqo’te is involved. I will note that miqo’te aren’t the only race to experience heats—Hrothgar, viera, and Au Ra have been known to experience them as well; but not all races experience the same symptoms. What’s normal for us could be different for others.” 

“I see,” A’zaela hummed thoughtfully. Truthfully, it was a fascinating topic. The entire reason she’d asked is because she couldn’t  _ remember —  _ either because she was never taught by her family, or the amnesia that had wiped that part of her life from her completely had erased it. She wasn’t sure which. All she knew is that she’d made it a point to disappear during heat season when she was younger.

Something G’raha said stuck with her though. She glanced sideways at him, a small grin turning up her lips. 

“Have  _ you  _ ever experienced a rut, then?” 

Finally, a reaction. She hadn’t been aiming for one until now—had been genuinely curious...but she would take the opportunity while it presented itself. 

A’zaela watched as her lover’s face turned a burning shade of red, climbing up his neck and settling in his cheeks. G’raha kept his eyes firmly locked on the closed book in front of him, suddenly unable to look at her. 

“W-well, yes,” he stammered out. “I remember what few I’ve had rather vividly. Experiencing one without a partner is...uncomfortable. I started having them consistently...well, not long after I came to the Find for the first time.” 

_ After he met me.  _

_ Oh. _

She shook the thought from her mind just as quickly as it had come to her. That didn’t make sense—if he had fallen into a rut, wouldn’t she go into a heat? Or...would they both have gone into heat? She wondered what, exactly, was the trigger. 

If she had gone into heat back then, what would she have done? 

What would  _ they  _ have done? 

A’zaela had to hold back a smile, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. He’d hidden his heat well, then, for her to never have noticed. Had it been before or after they’d started sharing a tent? 

Judging by his reaction, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had been _ during _ . Heat flashed through A’zaela’s body, setting warmly in her lower stomach. She wished she'd known. She had been younger then, and far more skittish than she is now. And yet...would she have cared? Would she had minded helping him? 

G'raha continued, “I never had any while I was away in the tower. There was no one around to trigger it. Then, when you came to the First...I believe I had  _ one _ .” 

_ One? As Exarch?  _ A’zaela’s ears were pointed up, alert. She wasn’t sure what she could say. She understood now why his face had taken on the shade of his hair when she’d asked. Both times he’d had a rut...they’d been because of her. Something about her presence, her scent, made him ache for her. Her tail curled and uncurled behind her. 

“And now?” she asked. “Have you had one since...returning to the source?” 

G’raha cleared his throat, finally managing to peek over at her. A’zaela took in the pretty blush painting his cheeks, and a warm smile grew on her lips. Curious. Encouraging.

He shook his head, trying to hide the upturn of his lips. 

“N-no, not as of yet. I’m...sure you will be the first to know.” 

“I’d be honored to help you,” she said honestly. It only made sense. He was her partner — on the battlefield, as a scion, in her bed. She gave herself freely to him almost every night—this would be no different. 

“You said you never liked the idea of them,” G’raha reminded her. “I’d never force that on you if it isn't something you want, Zaela.” 

She shook her head. “Well...It's hard to explain. I suppose I never liked them because they take away inhibitions. Consent. That...has always been the most important thing to me. You know that. To me, knowing that both of the people involved want one another, and won’t regret it once they come to their senses is what _matters_. I always got the sense that that...wasn’t the case. Besides...If it were you...well. We’re already together. You know I want you.” 

G’raha nodded sincerely, smiling. “I agree with the sentiment. The mating practices of sun seekers is a peculiar thing — even more now, knowing that there’s no such thing on the First.” 

A’zaela tilted her head, surprised. The First. Something they didn’t always talk about. Not during the day, and certainly not during such an inquisitive hour. 

Five years apart for her. 300 for him. Something she always mentally reminded herself whenever G’raha brought up something about his past, or the First. He was older than he seemed. Wiser. Knowledge spanning two worlds. 

“What of you?” G’raha asked, switching the conversation on her. The glint in his eye turned mischievous. “Tell me of your heats. I’ve never known you to have one, as far as I recall.” 

A’zaela, rather than taking on an embarrassed look, seemed lost in thought. 

“Mine are...infrequent. Truthfully, I think I’ve only ever had one. The first one since my accident. After that, I got help. I can’t reasonably be on a battlefield in heat. I take suppressants.” 

G’raha hummed. A’zaela pressed her lips together, her tail thrashing in agitation behind her. 

They were both thinking the same thing. It was only a matter of who said it first. 

A’zaela cleared her throat. 

“...should I stop taking them? Would you want to...” 

G’raha’s eyes shot to her, wide with shock. “I—mean, ah...that’s... Surely it can’t be safe to simply stop taking a medication. It could affect your hormones, your body, your moods…” 

“G’raha,” A’zaela chided. “That would be the point of stopping. Besides, it wouldn’t be forever. Just…” she waved her hand, trying to explain something wordlessly. 

“Zaela. What about…” G’raha worried his bottom lip. “...Fertility? What if you get...” 

_ Pregnant.  _ She ignored the flash of heat that went through her body. 

“What I take to keep me from getting pregnant is not what I take to suppress heats. They're two different medications. Though the chance of pregnancy is always there, I suppose. There...is some measure of risk. But we haven’t been using condoms for a while now.” 

A’zaela could tell that the scholar inside of G’raha was kicking in as he rapidly tried to justify the risks. She stood up from the bed and made her way over to his desk. After pulling up a chair, she leaned herself over his desk and propped her head up on her hands, ready to listen and talk him through it. 

“There are a few factors to consider,” he started, wiggling the quill he was holding between two fingers. “Firstly, heats can last anywhere between a single night up to a week—at least, that’s the max of what has been documented for an individual, from what I recall from some textbooks. We’d need to plan in advance for a lot of factors. Considering you haven’t had one for  _ years,  _ we’d have to expect yours to be especially harsh. That would be...a lot of sex to make you feel better, Zaela.” 

She smiled, tilting her head. “I was looking forward to that part the most.” 

G’raha cracked a grin himself, shaking his head lightly. His bangs fell into his right eye, momentarily obscuring her view of his face. 

“That isn’t to mention that, well...if my...suspicions are correct, setting me into a rut would be akin to setting of a Nunh. A single Nunh is capable of breeding several people in a single setting. The risk of pregnancy may be higher than what we assume it to be.” 

That, finally, was what gave A’zaela pause. She wasn’t ready for children yet. She didn’t know if she ever would be, truth be told. He was aware of this, and felt similarly, though she always suspected he may want a child someday. 

“And, well...since you’d need me to cum inside of you for you to feel significant relief, I can’t simply pleasure you through the heat,” G’raha said helplessly. “Don’t get me wrong, Zaela, I...knowing what a rut feels like, I cannot think of a greater experience to share with you. It would be...the most world-shattering thing I have ever done. If you didn’t ask, I would have brought it up myself. But I do want us to be very aware of the risks, should we both choose to take them.” 

A’zaela nodded once, her mind spinning. 

She wanted to let go for him. For herself. She wanted that bliss—higher than either of them had ever experienced before. It was the concept of consummating her first—and perhaps last—heat with him that made her desperately ache for him. 

That, and...A’zaela was tired of denying herself. She had suppressed this part of herself for so long that she had forgotten it was even there. She  _ liked  _ having sex—and having sex with G’raha was something that she would never take for granted. Not now, not ever. 

G’raha placed his hand on top of hers. She looked up at him again, to find his eyes locked onto her, roaming her face. His worry was palpable—his ears pointed back, tail thrashing at his side. 

...it was the way he looked at her. It was those bright and eager eyes, reminding her of just who she had chosen to spend her life with, that made her decision final. 

That was the funny thing about it all, really. The way they knew one another. When G’raha went into a panic, A’zaela would sit next to him and offer support, but mostly let him work through it himself. He would ramble and overthink, and then she would anchor him. When  _ she  _ went into a panic, he knew that she simply needed silence. He didn’t push or pull her in any direction--but he would often hold her hand in his, to ground her. 

She looked down at their entwined hands now. 

“We can do some more research,” A’zaela said softly. “About the medicine I’m taking, and the success rates. Then...we’ll see where that takes us. How does that sound?” 

G’raha nodded. “That sounds good.” 

“Good.” 

“You’ll take care of me? For the entire week?” 

G’raha took her hand, the one that had been resting upon his own, and lifted it to his lips. His kiss was soft against her knuckles, and her heart fluttered in her breast. 

“I’ve crossed the rift twice for you, Zaela. I would do this and more for a chance to simply hold your hand. You needn’t ask whether or not I’d take care of you during one of your most vulnerable moments. I am...overwhelmed by the fact that you asked me—chose me. However, no matter how overwhelmed I am, know that my answer is  _ yes— _ it always has been, and always will be. I’ve wanted this for far longer than you can imagine. As long as your answer remains yes, I will take care of you. And should you need me to stop in the middle of both of our heats, I will stop, and I will not start again no matter how you beg. This is important to both of us. I will honor that.”

"G'raha?" A'zaela asked quietly.

"Yes?" 

She held out her arms for him.

"Come make love to me." 

She didn't have to ask him twice. 


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it begins.

It would be some time before A’zaela would stop her suppressants. There was research to be done and safety measures to be taken. In between the odd jobs, the adventures, and the scion work she and G’raha had to do, her heat wasn’t high on their list of priorities. 

But it was there. A’zaela remembered it every time she crawled into bed at night, and every time he put his hands on her. 

_ I asked him to breed me.  _

The thought was embarrassing. Mortifying, really. Before she met him, she would have balked at the thought of trusting  _ anyone  _ to touch her like that. 

Not anymore, though. If there was anyone on this star that she trusted that much, it was him. There was no questioning it. A part of her very soul felt complete around him. They didn’t need to  _ mate  _ for her to realize any of this—she had known it all along. Before he was Exarch, and before she fought in any wars. Even before he realized he was Allagan royalty and meant for the future, A’zaela had felt something—a tug between them. 

So what was the harm in the act of loving him like this? In letting them both experience something so deeply intimate? 

So eventually they made their plans. A’zaela was to stop taking her medicine, and the next day they would go out and procure everything they needed to stay in their apartment for at least a week. 

(They hoped it wouldn’t last that long, but fate had never been particularly kind to them.) 

They had put in all of the work—their estimates on when she would fall into heat landing on a week after she stopped the medication, giving her body enough time to recognize the change. 

She didn’t last a day without it. 

That night, after they’d curled up together, fully clothed and pressed close, anticipation floating in their hearts, A’zaela slept. She even dreamed—something she never did, if she got to sleep at all. 

A’zaela was awoken by the sun pouring in through sheer curtains, it’s warmth curling around her. It was blinding, that light, not unlike how it had been her first few weeks on the First. Only the blue sky reminded her that she was home, with her lover still in her arms. 

It was one of the few nights where G’raha had fallen asleep turned away from her. A’zaela took a long look at the expanse of his back, honing in on the gentle movements he made while he slept. For a long moment, she simply basked in the intimacy of the moment. He truly had fallen asleep in her arms—her arm slung over his hips while she spooned him. She pressed her face against his freckled back, filling her senses with the scent of  _ him.  _

She could smell everything. From the rolanberry shampoo they shared, down to the very gentle, very masculine scent of him. She could smell the sheets beneath them, which combined their scents together with the soap they had used to wash them. It was clean, it was nice, but it was  _ strong.  _ Stronger than she’d realized. 

She hadn’t realized yet, however, what was different about her this morning. 

Even the birds outside seemed to notice something was strange within her. They sang and cried out in the distance, the sound loud and cacophonous. Have they always been so obnoxious? Had she truly never noticed? 

A’zaela let out a quiet groan, hoping to drown them out. She needed a distraction, she decided, bringing the arm that had been over G’raha’s hip up his body, traveling over his soft tummy, then up to his chest. 

A’zaela kept herself firm against his back, basking in his warmth. She pressed idle kisses against his skin, silently hoping that she might accidentally wake him up. She didn’t  _ truly _ want to wake him up before he was ready, but something insistent urged her forward. Soon, her mouth reached his shoulder, then the crux of his neck. Her kisses were gentle, being careful not to tickle him. She let herself remain against that sensitive spot for a short while, not pressing forward any further than she had already gone. G’raha deserved the sleep, truthfully. He had the tendency to sleep as horribly as she. Yet… 

She wanted him. She wanted him to wake already, to roll over and cover her body with his and smother her with kisses. She could almost feel his familiar weight pressing down on her, and the way his fingers would feel on her hips. She was filled with  _ want,  _ small yet fervent. Something about the morning light had softened her harsh edges, making her warm and fuzzy. It was different. A good sort of different. 

After what felt like both an eternity and a handful of seconds, G’raha’s tail began to move teasingly over her legs, taking long, languid strokes over her thigh. A’zaela’s heart thrummed with excitement, and she laughed quietly against his back. 

“Good morning,” he whispered, his voice heavy with sleep. A’zaela buried her face in his neck and kissed, mumbling a response against his throat. The vibrations of her voice sent levin along his spine, causing him to shudder. 

“Raha,” A’zaela moaned, pushing herself up, letting the blankets fall down her body to gather at her waist. Exposing herself to the cool air made her realize just how warm she had been, pressed up against him so. Even clothed she could feel the shift in temperature, goosebumps rising along her skin. 

G’raha rolled onto his back, looking up at her sleepily. Heat flooded through him at the way her eyes raked over his body, and the languid way she moved. A’zaela pushed the blankets aside entirely and climbed on top of him, seating herself prettily on top of his thighs. 

Her hand trembled as she reached down to fan her fingers across his stomach. Her eyes were lidded, yet filled with fire as she stared down at him—between his legs, where what she wanted sat hidden by a barrier of clothing. 

“C-can I?” she whispered, her voice small. He realized what it was, then—the expression on her face. The desperation glinting in her eyes. She wanted to touch him, her fingers trembling, hand hovering above his cock. 

But she wouldn’t start without his permission. 

“Yes, love,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You can.” 

A’zaela was both hesitant yet hasty in her approach. She was quick to tug on the elastic of his underwear, exposing him to the chill of the room. A hiss escaped his lips as she touched him—wrapping a single hand around him as soon as she could. Being mindful of his sensitivity, she kept her touch light. Eager, curious, and mindful not to rush. 

The two of them watched, mesmerized, as she used a single finger to circle his tip. G’raha let out a soft, strangled moan, and let out a silent prayer -- wishing that he could get harder faster. The look in her eyes was heady and addicting, and he ached to match that intensity, despite the sleep that still hovered on his face. He knew he would, eventually, but it wasn’t happening  _ fast enough,  _ even as his cock twitched lightly in her hand as it began to stiffen. Even as his entire body tensed while her fingers danced along his shaft, straying lower, lower, teasing what lay below. Her scent overwhelmed him, and even though she wasn’t pressed close to him anymore, the cloying smell of arousal battered his senses, dragging him down with her. 

A’zaela had been watching his every move. Noting every hitch of his breath, every rock of his hips. She stared down at him adoringly, her hair falling over her shoulder and a teasing smile on her lips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed. She gave him the gentlest of squeezes before moving her hand just a fraction faster, urging him to fullness. 

G’raha’s face was painted red. He wasn’t used to such compliments, no matter how many had passed her lips since they’d come together. He had gone from a man who revelled in compliments, chasing after teachers and classmates to gain them. But, long after that, he had also been a man who hid his face from the world. That man--the one who never had to steel his face properly-- won over now, flooding him with embarrassment and endearment—and being exposed so now, to the woman he loved— 

It felt wonderful, and so incredibly  _ different.  _ He wanted to hear her praise him again and again, so that the thrill of it would run down his spine and cause him to shiver once more. He had no rebuttal in his flustered state, only a soft, breathy moan. 

That made her smile. Wicked White, he loved her smile. He loved  _ her,  _ with that half-lidded look in her starry eyes as she spent time pleasuring him. He was blessed, so incredibly blessed by the Gods—

Suddenly, A’zaela leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his clavicle. Her hand was still wrapped around his cock as she moved, kissing and sucking a mark along his neck. Her tongue traced the pattern of the Archon tattoo along his neck, and G’raha gasped, bucking his hips up against her. She laughed and smiled, a lovely sensation that he could feel against his skin. 

“You’re so good for me,” she hummed. After moving to press one, solid kiss to his lips, A’zaela pushed herself down his body, no longer straddling him. She laid herself between his legs, pressing kisses as close to his cock as she could without actually touching the spot he wanted her the most. 

She wet her lips when she glanced up at him. Her blue eyes were no longer filled with sleep—they were filled with  _ need.  _ Her lips parted, and she exhaled, and G’raha once more shuddered at the feeling of her breath brushing against his skin. 

“Can I taste you?” she asked, just as small and eager as before. “Please. I need to.” She kissed the very tip of his cock, and it twitched against her lips. G’raha covered his mouth with his hand and let out a strangled breath, heart flying within his chest. 

“Yes, Zaela,” he said. “Take me. Take all of me.” 

She wasted no time. Her lips wrapped around his tip, and her tongue swirled around it, lapping up any pre that had formed there. Then, with very little preamble, she took more of him, until G’raha felt himself hit the back of her throat. It wasn’t long before her nose pressed against the red curls at the base of him, and he cried out, his hips jerking helplessly. He tried to cover his shout by biting down on the knuckle of his hand, to no avail. It echoed around their shared bedroom, ringing in his ears—and hers, judging by the way the silky appendage twitched atop her head. 

And then A’zaela began to  _ purr, _ and G’raha was lost. He was hard within seconds, hot puffs of breath escaping his lips as she overwhelmed him with pleasure. He unknowingly tilted his hips, driving himself further within her. A’zaela choked, forced to pull back to regain her bearings. She did so with a low whine—as if she hated to separate from him for even a second—which sent yet another wave through him. She was so beautiful, her lips perfectly wrapped around his cock. He wanted more, _ more.  _

It was all he could do to stop himself from tipping his hips up and fucking her mouth. 

In fact, he couldn’t stop himself at all. 

All at once, G’raha snaked his fingers through her hair and held her still while he thrusted into her. A’zaela took what he gave her gracefully, giving all she had in return. Blue eyes pierced him down to his soul, reminding him how incredibly lucky he was to have her as he bucked up into her mouth. 

He was seconds from tipping over the edge and cumming when they both separated, chests heaving to catch their breath. A string of saliva connected her bottom lip to his tip, and A’zaela, for once, didn’t bother to wipe it away. G’raha was the one who reached out and dragged his thumb along her mouth, noting how red and swollen her lips were. 

“Make love to me,” she whispered, his hand on her chin tilting her head up to face him. It was a quiet, heartfelt plea, yet the desperation in her eyes told a different story. There was a glean there that he had never seen before—a fire that even she had never known. He was eager to match that intensity. To prove his worth, and to quench that fire. 

“Panties off,” he said, knowing exactly what she wanted. “Get on top.”

He knew her, knew her body, and that knowledge would guide him well. She did as he said, pulling a pair of black panties down, past her ass and to the middle of her thighs. 

G’raha growled at the sight. He could smell it on her, how badly she wanted him. He could  _ see it.  _ She pulled the panties down, over her knees, then off. She threw them away, and they hit the ground somewhere in the room, entirely forgotten. 

“ _ Now,”  _ he said. 

A’zaela laughed. 

She crawled back up on top of him, seating herself prettily in his lap while she covered his mouth with her own. He could only kiss her for a moment, but knowing that these were the same lips that had just given him the best head of his life just moments ago made him feral, nipping at her lips and digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her rear. 

Any other day, he would explore her. Any other day, he was G’raha Tia, historian, heir to the legacy of Allag. He would not let any part of her go undiscovered. 

  
Today? Today he was G’raha  _ Nunh,  _ and he had no time left to waste. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters three and four are exactly like this. no more plot, only porn. 
> 
> thanks for reading! if you want more shenanigans, please feel free to follow me on twitter. @/powerwordgill for sfw, and @/nsfgill for nsfw.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it begins

Waste time he didn’t. 

Giving A’zaela’s ass a firm squeeze, G’raha then dragged that same hand over to her hip, splaying his fingers across her skin. 

He could do many things to her like this. With his hands on her hips like so, he could lift her up, move her on top of his face and take his fill of her. Images of the claw marks she would carve into their headboard filled his mind, warmed his skin. Then, he was graced with another fantasy--one of her, desperate and whining on his fingers as he edged her to oblivion. 

There were so many options. Yet, he knew what she wanted—what she _needed_. Something only he could give. 

G’raha gently curled two fingers into her, knowing, but needing to be certain that she was ready to take him. A’zaela’s back arched as his thumb flicked over her clit, and she rocked her hips against his hand, a harsh gasp falling from her lips. 

“So wet,” he said, watching her hair fall over her shoulders and cradling her breasts. “How long have you been waiting for me to wake, Zaela?” 

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Instead, she pressed her forehead to his, desperation rolling off of her in waves. He knew it was cruel to tease her—especially now—yet he couldn’t help it. He craved every pant, every moan, every nibble of her lip between her teeth. 

“Are you ready?” G’raha asked, his voice a hushed murmur. In that moment, he was made only for her, only for this. He would be the only one she heard, and she would only be heard by him. 

“Yes,” she moaned, her voice roughened with pleasure. His hand, wet with her slick, grasped his cock—a sensation worthy of ballads in and of itself—before pushing up to tease her slit. He hadn’t even truly _entered_ her before a moan passed from his lips, warmth spiking through his body, goosebumps rising along his skin. 

This. There was nothing like this. There were no words to describe how he felt in that moment, watching her mouth fall open and hearing her cries fall from helplessly reddened lips. 

She was not just his mate, but his _soulmate—_ the person he had traveled through time and space to save. The one he would meet over and over again, in every life he was blessed to live. 

G’raha Tia was a fool in love, but he was her fool, and it was the only fool he would want to be. 

He brought his hips up, while urging her _down._ In one swift thrust, he entered her, their position unforgiving. He was pushed in to the hilt--A’zaela clapped a hand over her mouth and _yelped,_ trying to stifle a scream. He was immediately frantic, his mind spinning. 

_Gods, say I didn’t hurt her_ — he begged, 

—but no, she was quick to begin moving her hips against him, with her hands pressed against his chest, using him as leverage. Soft, breathy moans passed her lips as she rode him, and stars filled her eyes. 

For a single, heartfelt moment, A’zaela simply looked down at him. He knew they looked similar in that moment, with red cheeks and love bruised lips that were parted around desperate pants of hot breath. In that moment, he knew she was going through the same revelation he had gone through seconds before—that she was his as much as he was hers. 

A’zaela reached down and grabbed both of his hands in hers, then pinned them over his head. Though he had come onto her strong, she took the reins now, restricting his movements and _using_ him. 

G’raha Tia loved being used by her. 

Desperate to move things along, she lifted her hips up then sunk _down_ on him, her pace strong and steady. She took the breath right out of his body with the way she moved, the way her hips plummeted him deeper and deeper inside of her. 

G’raha couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He could only stare, transfixed on the way her legs looked wrapped around his hips, and the way he felt, hard and throbbing inside of her. 

“You’re mine,” she gasped, her mouth so close to touching his that he could feel every syllable. Her hands tightened around his wrists. “You’re _mine,_ G’raha Tia.” 

“ _Fuck,”_ he hissed, slamming up into her just as she came down. Her grip on him loosened, and he took his chance—freeing himself from her grasp to put his hands on her body once more. 

Yes, he loved being used, but he also loved to _take._

G’raha’s fingers dug into the supple flesh of her bottom, firm and unrelenting. He wanted to mark her, to bruise her skin, to remind her of him every time she looked in a mirror. In that moment, despite being under her, he took control of her movements. She could do naught but relent, letting herself be moved and thoroughly _fucked._

“Ohh, _Goddess!”_ A’zaela cried, a wobble in her voice. “Yes, yes, _yes!”_

“Come here,” G’raha panted, so far lost to his pleasures that he was unable to form any sort of intellectual or flowery phrases. The scholar in him was gone—she had reduced him to naught but a beast. She obeyed him, bringing her face down so he could capture a kiss. He met her halfway, pushing himself up from the bed and crushing her against his chest with a hand firm on her back. A’zaela gasped against his mouth, her breath sweeping over his skin. The sound, imperceptible to some, made his ears twitch toward her, wanting to hear every damned syllable _._

“Gonna cum,” she cried as he pushed his forehead against hers. 

“Not yet,” he ground out, voice firm and commanding. All movement ground to a halt.

A’zaela _whined._ A sinful noise, one that made his toes curl. Her chest rose and fell against his own, breasts brushing deliciously against him. 

Torture. Pure torture for both sides. 

A’zaela could have cried as he held her still, fingers digging into her skin. Despite the way her entire body pulsed with sheer pleasure, she listened. She had to listen. She had to let him take her. She needed this, needed him. She needed him so, so badly. 

“Please!” she breathed, begging him to move. “Please, please.” 

“Zaela,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Open your eyes.” 

She did. An oceanic blue staring up at the fiery inferno of Allag, gentle and pleading. 

“Please,” she whispered again, as if it were the only word she knew. 

“Watch,” he said, drawing his thumb against her cheek. “Watch me make love to you. Watch me take care of you, Zaela. _Watch.”_

A’zaela, so close to an orgasm that she could have cried, stared down at where their bodies combined. She watched him fill her with bated breath, each ilm of his cock filling her with electricity. When he pulled back, he glistened with their combined slick. 

He was going slow. So, so agonizingly slow. She understood—she was to _watch,_ to memorize his movements, to savor every second of him breeding her. It was a show, one she delighted yet dreaded. Loved yet hated. 

It was too much yet not enough. 

Then, G’raha placed his thumb against her clit. A’zaela’s breath hitched in her chest as she watched him, her thoughts blinded to anything except the focal point of his touch. G’raha whispered his encouragement in her ear, urging her to keep her head down, to keep watching. To lose herself in his touch.

She did. She watched as he spelled his name on her clit with careful fingers, keeping a careful tempo as he simultaneously slid in and out of her. She _knew_ it was his name, she knew because he had done it so many times before, using his tongue. Back then, he couldn’t keep from grinning devilishly as her hands had threaded through her hair.

Her concentration broke as he sped up. His thrusts, his fingers, urging her quickly to the brink. She was falling, she was…

“Can you cum for me?” he purred. Something inside of A’zaela shattered. It welled up inside of her, fast and hot—

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, yes, just keep that up, don’t stop—"

A’zaela’s orgasm took her, fast and hot, her head thrown back and her mouth thrown wide in an o shape. Her cunt squeezed, and G’raha was met with pure satisfaction and _pleasure,_ more than he’d ever known before. 

They had made love many times, but nothing compared to _this._

He slammed into her one final time, crying out and finishing deep, adding to her newfound bliss. Relief—cold as crystal, engulfed her as she sat entangled with him. She tried to catch her breath, but her body was yet filled with stars, and until she could breathe them back into the universe, she’d wouldn’t be able to.

But since G’raha had fucked them into her, she didn’t think they’d be leaving any time soon.

Fingers brushed across her forehead, moving to wipe the sweat from her brow. Her eyes focused on the man in front of her, on the new glimmer in his eyes—the way his mouth curled into a satisfied smile.

“How are you feeling?” G’raha asked, his voice an octave lower than his normal register.

A’zaela laughed, pushing her face into the crook of his neck. “I’m good. I’m great.”

That didn’t even begin to cover it. Didn’t begin to explain how he had made her feel by telling her to _watch._ By reversing their roles and fucking her senseless.

“Good,” G’raha murmured, kissing the tip of her ear. “Because we’re not done yet.”

The ear pressed against his lips twitched once. That was all the time she had before G’raha pushed her down onto the bed and crawling on top of her.

“ _Yes,”_ she breathed against his mouth as he pressed his lips to her own. Her hands came up to cup his face, to keep him close. Then, G’raha smiled. It was her only warning before his own hands came up and grasped her wrists.

Pressed against the sheets so, she had no chance to resist. He pinned her arms up above her head, managing to hold both of her wrists with one hand. She felt the magic rise up in his body and watched the red of his eyes glow as a spell settled over her.

Chains. Chains made of Aether bound her wrists together. Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced up at them and then back down to him.

He was planning on ruining her. Destroying her very being.

Goddess help her, she was going to let him.

“Is this too much?” he murmured, his lips brushing against her shoulder.

“Never,” she said. 

“Good,” he said, kissing her mouth once more, long and hard, before beginning his descent down her body. 

He started at the top, pushing her shirt up over her breasts to finally expose them to the world. Until now, he’d hardly realized that they were both still dressed--they hadn’t had time to rip off their nightclothes. Hadn’t needed to. He was lucky, he realized, that she had foregone panties the previous night, or she would be down a pair. He would have torn them off if it meant getting to her faster. 

That didn’t matter now. What mattered was her breasts, warm and inviting, sitting untouched by him. He remedied that immediately, pressing his mouth over a peaked nipple and rolling his tongue against it. His hand idly groped the other breast, delighting, not for the first time, in how it fit perfectly within his calloused hand. 

“Raha,” A’zaela said, squirming beneath him. “Please, I…” 

“Mm. Impatient,” he hummed, momentarily ignoring her pleas. He repositioned his mouth to the top of her breast and suckled, letting the skin darken beneath his lips before moving to another spot and repeating the process. 

She would not get out of this unmarked. Hopefully, neither would he. 

So G’raha bit and sucked her skin, listening unapologetically to her cries, ignoring the way her legs scrambled beneath him, pressing gingerly at his groin, trying to get him to falter. 

And he _would_ falter. He would make his way back inside of her-- soon. The Nunh in him would not be satisfied until she was spent. Not once, not twice. He needed to make up for every heat she’d ever suppressed, every time she ever denied herself.

 _That’s what this is,_ he finally realized. _She’s...in heat. Goddess help me--so am I._

That it took him so long to realize only cemented the fact. Nothing else mattered during one--only the person in front of you. 

No, not the person in front of you. _A’zaela. She_ was the only person he had ever felt this way around. She was the only thing that mattered to him, now or any other time; he wouldn’t chalk this feeling up to their biology.

Renewed with fervor, G’raha made his way down her body. He moved himself between her legs, pressing kisses against her belly as he went. His mind wandered, for just a brief moment, as did his mouth. He left the bruises and kisses here as reminders—gentle pleas. Maybe one day. It was simple; he wanted everything she deigned to give him.

So he would prove to her that devotion. Every day of his life. 

With one last glance up at A’zaela’s face, G’raha took her by the hips and moved her. She let him do it—letting his fingers sink into her hips and urge her wherever he wanted, her arms remaining bound above her head. The stomach he had just so lovingly adorned was now pressed against his sheets.

He took a moment to stare. To run his fingers down the curve of her spine, and to tease the base of her tail. Said tail was lashing erratically at the touch, curling and uncurling above her. That and the way her muscles tensed beneath his fingers told him all he needed to know. 

She was sensitive. Every part of her was electric, and he was trailing sparks through her. He was about to smile, when…

Ah. 

On A’zaela’s back, placed lovingly above her tail, was a tattoo. The mark of Azeyma, the goddess they both worshipped. It had been there since he’d first seen her naked back, back when she’d bathed once in the Silvertear lake. He hadn’t seen anything that night—but the image had never left his mind. It had haunted him, that sigil of the Sun Goddess. Her fire had branded him, night after night when he’d fumble with his trousers and take himself in hand with the image of her bare skin in mind. 

Now, he was given the luxury of touching it, night after night, decorating the skin around it. Normally, he loved the tattoo—delighted in the sight of her self expression. Yet now he only saw it as a mark of another. Someone else had _branded her._

A part of him knew it was ridiculous, but another, larger part of him wouldn’t be satisfied until he had thoroughly marked her in return, until she forgot the name of the very saint she worshipped. 

Pressing his body over top of hers, G’raha let his cock rest comfortably between the peaks of her ass. He brought a hand up over her shoulder and brushed her hair away, so that he might lean in to kiss her there. He felt the shudder that ran through her—a slight shiver, a delicious vibration underneath him. 

“It’s here, isn’t it?” he asked. “The spot that drives you insane. That makes you shiver even when I blow on it.” 

To make a point, G’raha did just as he said. He blew a cold breath against her skin, and she shuddered beneath him, letting out a soft cry. 

“...may I have the honor?” he asked. Softly. Pleading.

A’zaela pushed her ass up, situating herself so that she was on her elbows and knees, wrists yet bound in place in front of her. Her consent was momentarily wordless, given to him in the form of wiggling her hips against his erection. G’raha gasped and ground against her, swallowing down the jolt of pleasure she shot through his body. Even with her wrists bound she held so much power over him. 

“You can have me,” A’zaela breathed. “All of me.” 

G’raha peeled back and took his cock in hand. He lined it up with her entrance, ready to take her, to give her everything—

But he didn’t. His tip merely brushed against her lips, and she keened. 

She might have some power over him, even bound and at his mercy. But she was still just that — completely as his mercy. 

“Beg,” he said. A soft command. A’zaela whined and arched her back, tugging at the restraints. 

“Raha, please,” she moaned. “Please, I want you—“

The head of his cock brushed against her clit, and A’zaela’s body began to shake. 

“Keep saying my name,” he said. “Just like that.” 

“ _Raha. My love, my Raha, please, please, I—Ra-ha!”_

On the last syllable, he thrusted into her, and both of their cries resonated in the room around them. He rocked his hips and let himself fall into her, sinking deep into her heat _._ A’zaela was fire, burning fire, and she was burning him up along with her. She moaned as his hips snapped against her, trapped beneath him as he took her from behind. 

He stared at her back, at the nape of her neck, watching her body move and react to each thrust. He felt the longing rise up within him, starting in his belly and rising high up into his chest. 

“A’zaela Linh,” he said, dipping down to brush his mouth against her shoulder. “I’m about to do the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life.” 

And he sunk his teeth into her skin. 

He marked her, hard and deep. His eyes fell shut, and his lovemaking stilled for long moments as he let his instincts guide him. Marking someone wasn’t simple, it wasn’t just biting them. It was finding that one sensitive spot—that single spot that was different for everyone—and sucking and loving it, until the person beneath you broke. 

And A’zaela _broke._

_“Fuck!”_

The cry that ripped from her was akin to a sob. Bound and bitten, A’zaela felt both pain and pleasure--a sensation that she had never known before. She had tried, during every time that they ever made love, to reciprocate; to give him all that he was giving her. But G’raha had ruined her. He took everything that she was and reduced it down to one single point on her body. 

She had never known such bliss. 

Once more, they came together. Something that rarely ever happened once, let alone twice in one morning. This time, they were well and truly _spent._ A’zaela would have collapsed onto the sheets, but she didn’t even have it in her to move. Neither did G’raha, it seemed, as he spent long moments running his tongue over the bite that he had left, leaving soft kisses against the juncture. 

“Raha,” she chuckled. “That tickles.” 

“Ah,” he said, a blush no doubt coating his cheeks. “Yes. I see. I…” 

“You can still admire it when I lay down,” she offered. “I promise it will still be there.” 

It was G’raha’s turn to laugh. “Yes, well. Can you blame me? I’ve spent centuries dreaming of this exact moment. I half expect to wake up in a few moments.” 

“My knees, love,” A’zaela insisted. “And my wrists.” 

Just as she spoke the words, the chains vanished. Her body sagged in relief, and she collapsed properly onto the sheets below her, stretching out her stiff limbs. G’raha rolled off of her and onto his side, propping himself up onto his elbow so he could watch her.

She was a sight to behold. Her body littered with lovebites, her wrists reddened from the chains. To the flush of her cheeks down to the way her toes curled, she was a spectacle he couldn’t fathom glancing away from. 

The visible bite on her shoulder stood out against it all. He couldn’t help but reach out and touch it, half expecting it to disappear. So many years he had spent dreaming of this moment. 

Dreaming of her. 

“I’m starting to think you like tickling me,” A’zaela laughed, curling her head into her shoulder. Even her laugh, a beautiful lilt from bruised lips caught his stare and filled him to the brim with fascination. 

“I do,” he said, unable to stop the smile that spread across his lips. “Your laugh. I hardly hear it.” 

“I laugh quite often,” A’zaela countered. 

G’raha brought his hand up to rest against her cheek. “I want to hear it more. I haven’t heard it enough, not over three hundred years.” 

Her eyes softened. “I’ve a lot of making up to do.” 

G’raha huffed out a laugh. “After this week, I fear you’ll hardly want to look at me. Too much of a good thing and all that.” 

She shook her head. “No. It’s a significant less, but your three hundred years was my five. Five years of lost love making, of kisses, of laughter. We’ve both got to make up for lost time.” 

“Mm,” he hummed. “Full glad am I to do my part.” 

Silence fell over them like a blanket. G’raha swept his thumb over her cheek, and A’zaela’s eyes began to close. The first wave was over, it seemed, and she was hitting a wave of exhaustion. The yawn that fell from his lips told him he was reaching the same point. 

“And you don’t regret it?” he asked, his eyes falling once more to the mark he’d made on her. 

A’zaela didn’t open her eyes. She shook her head lightly and whispered, “No. I’m surprised you didn’t do it sooner.” 

A jolt ran through him. _What? All this time, she wanted—?_

“I said I was yours back on the first,” she continued. “I meant that.” 

“Zaela,” G’raha said, his breath catching. 

Her eyes opened lazily. A contrast to his, which were wide and alert. 

“I’m yours,” she whispered. 

G’raha felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs. 

He had known. On some level, he had known. She’d said it to him before. But no matter how many times he heard it, it took the breath out of his lungs. 

And now the proof of that was branded on her body. 

G’raha didn’t argue. He sidled up to her and nuzzled against her, listening to the sound of her heart beating as he fell into the first blissful sleep he’d had since he was woken from the Crystal Tower. 

-

A’zaela didn’t rightly know how much time had passed. A day, maybe, as she recalled seeing stars outside of her window one of the many times she had come. Real stars, not the theoretic ones that had filled her vision orgasm after orgasm. 

Heats, as it turned out, were much more work than either of them would have surmised. Having fallen into one beside her, G’raha was just as tense as she was, eager to slip his fingers between her thighs at a moment’s notice. She had woken up multiple times to his mouth on her throat and his cock hard against her back. 

For the moment though, there was calm. The sun was back in the sky, and judging by the harsh light pooling on the ground outside, it was more than likely midday. A’zaela sat on the windowsill, her head pressed against the cool glass, peering out at the Ul’dahn sun, taking a moment to herself. This experience, this heat, it was enlightening in more than a few ways, but she was still a solitary creature, needing some space to clear her thoughts. 

And she had many thoughts to sort out, currently.

G’raha was lying back on the bed, sprawled out with his hands behind his head. A’zaela had tossed on a robe to sit in her spot, but Raha had remained undressed. With how warm they had been lately, he had foregone covering himself at all, leaving his body open for anyone to see. 

She let her eyes roam over his body. There had been times, over this past day, where she didn’t know where he ended and she began. Their bodies and souls had been so close, so curled around one another that it was almost as if they had become one entity. Yet still she found herself admiring him and all he had to give. The powerful thighs that she imagined tensing beneath her fingers as she gave him head; muscled arms that held her still as he came in from behind; talented fingers that were often her undoing. The tattoos that graced his skin—shoulder and throat—places that she could kiss all day, if he would allow it. 

Her eyes didn’t shy away from what was between his legs, either. In his relaxed state, his cock rested prettily against his lower stomach, currently flaccid and unsuspecting. 

A’zaela pressed a hand against her forehead and puffed out a sigh. She was in this deeper than she ever thought she could be. 

“What’s wrong?” G’raha asked, ruby eyes peering up at her from his place on the bed. A’zaela took a moment to contemplate a response before answering. 

“I keep thinking about it...I hardly even knew I was in heat,” A’zaela murmured, her eyes shut. “Now it seems so obvious.” 

He tilted his head, eyes brimming with curiosity. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean…” she paused, trying to capture the right words. “When I first woke up, I just wanted to touch you. To be close, like I normally do. Then it got warm...and everything turned into a haze. A frenzy. I wanted so much, and I still want more. I hardly ever _need_ this much...but even now I feel it, settling in my stomach. This want. This...heat. I’m starting to understand something I spent a lot of my life questioning, and I haven’t quite wrapped my head around it.” 

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” G’raha said with a smile. “You certainly won’t hear me complaining of you waking me up like that, heat or no.” 

“Hah. Surely.” They differed in that aspect. To G’raha, it didn’t matter what time they coupled—day or night, he’d take her. For A’zaela, she preferred the cloak of night. It helped her forget the way her body looked; helped her ignore the scars that marred every part of her skin. 

G’raha sat up and peered over at her, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. His fingers, which she found her gaze oddly drawn to, curled lightly into their bedsheets as he put his full attention on her. 

“It’s okay to feel conflicted,” he offered. “Matters of the heart--of the body--come differently to everyone.” 

“I know,” A’zaela said, a smile dancing on her lips. “I know. Perhaps my mind is so addled from all of the sex that I need extra time to mull over my thoughts.” 

“Take all the time you need,” G’raha said. “I’m here to listen, should you need it. Or…” As he said it, though, something dark danced in his eyes. A hint of mischief that curled the corners of his mouth, bruised and love bitten as it was. 

A shudder ran through her. “Or?” 

“Or I can help you forget about it all entirely.” 

She hadn’t been lying when she’d said that her need had been growing in her stomach. She’d had enough of a break--a few hours this time, which meant that things might be slowing down. Despite that, it all came rushing back at the sound of his voice, of the offer he was handing her. 

“Normally,” A’zaela started, watching as G’raha stood up and made his way over to her. His tail swayed languidly behind him, and she was forced to watch it, her gaze refusing to go any higher than his hips. “I wouldn’t enjoy the idea of being offered to _forget_ anything. I’m the type that likes to remember.” 

Her breath stammered as G’raha put one leg up on the windowsill, maneuvering so that he was directly in front of her, his face mere seconds away from hers. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze; half lidded eyes that shone bright with desire. She could no longer look down, but she knew what awaited her. Him, half hard, ready for her hand to wrap around and stroke him to fullness. 

“But,” she continued, pausing to nip at his bottom lip. “This is something that I can only begin thinking about once we’re done coming together. So yes, G’raha. Make me forget.” 

She felt him smile. 

In seconds, his hands were underneath her, gripping her thighs and pulling her up, up, locking her legs around his waist. A laugh spilled from her lips, loud and surprised, giddy and sweet. He pulled the both of them down from the windowsill and carried her back to bed, tossing her against the sheets before climbing back on top of her. 

Deft hands found the tie to her robe and quickly undid it. He threw open the offending piece of clothing and set his fingers about roaming over plush breasts. A’zaela moaned against his lips, letting him once again ignite the fire within her. Already could she feel the slick between her legs, brought on by the way his cock pressed firm against her body. 

She almost couldn’t recall what they’d been talking about before. 

“Stay here,” G’raha whispered, pulling away from her. A’zaela had to stop herself from reaching out and grabbing him by the shoulders, bringing him right back where he belonged. He was gone for all of a few seconds, but those seconds were agony. It was her, wrestling to pull the robe off entirely, and wiggling up properly onto the bed. Then it was him, rummaging through their bedside table for--

_Oh._

Her toys. G’raha was on her side of the bed, taking _her_ toys out of _her_ bedside table. Her mind went blank for a moment, trying to understand what he could possibly be thinking. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, a little breathlessly. Seeing him hold the cock that she had once used to fuck him, and the vibrator that he often held to her clit night after night, she couldn’t fathom what he was thinking of doing with them both. 

“Just what I said I’d do,” G’raha said. He’d always had a mischievous streak, even when he was masquerading as Exarch. She could still remember the way he pressed a crystalline finger to his lips, urging her to stay quiet in the face of the Eulmorran envoy. “I’m going to make you forget.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate chapter three. all my homies HATE chapter three  
> i just needed this out of my drafts. i'm happy with it, i think? if there are typos, no there aren't 
> 
> follow me at twitter.com/powerwordgill (sfw) or twitter.com/nsfgill (nsfw). i cant stop minors from reading my fics but i can stop them from being on my nsfw, so if i dont see an age or you come off as sus to me, i wont let you follow my nsfw. thanks for understanding.


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